Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine.
Warning: I apologize in advance for the fluff in this chapter, haha.
Chapter Twelve: Married With Children
"I think that's everything," Arthur said, setting Ginny's trunk on the floor of the lounge. He looked around the room, which had been redone in deep reds and whites with oak trim. "You and the boys really did a great job with the house, Neville."
"Thanks. We couldn't have done it without your help," Neville said, scratching his chin. He glanced down at the plush burgundy rug that covered the freshly refinished hardwood floor. "I'm kind of worried about us being alone, though…I wish I didn't have to go back to work in two days."
"I know the feeling," Arthur said as he glanced around the room. "Where are Molly, Ginny, and James?"
"The nursery, I think. Molly wanted to see it, even though James won't sleep in there for awhile yet." Neville started up the stairs, Arthur right behind him.
Ron had originally wanted to paint the nursery in Gryffindor colors, and Ginny had agreed until Hermione turned up with a bunch of research stating that red was not a brain compatible color and thus not appropriate for a small child's room. As such, the color scheme had been changed to light blue. Ron had even managed to charm some clouds onto the ceiling. The bedding and curtains were blue with a Golden Snitch print, and Neville had draped Harry's baby blanket over the back of the crib.
"Oh, it's absolutely gorgeous, Neville!" Molly gushed as he entered the room. Ginny, who was sitting with James in a rocking chair, nodded enthusiastically.
"I can't believe Ron did this. Maybe there's some hope for him, after all," she said, impressed. "There's not even one Chudley Cannons poster."
Wordlessly, Neville opened the wardrobe door. There was a flash of orange as seven smiling faces waved their hands furiously. Ginny groaned.
"I knew it was too good to be true," she said, shaking her head.
"Well, if you're all right, Ginny, your mother and I will head home," Arthur said. Ginny nodded.
"We're only a Floo call away," Molly said tearfully. "If you need anything, please let us know." She and Arthur headed outside to the Apparation point, leaving the young family alone in their new house.
"So," Neville said after several moments of silence. "Your mum left dinner – didn't trust us to cook, I guess."
"Brilliant," Ginny said, shifting two-week-old James so he rested against her shoulder. "I could eat a hippogriff." She hurried down to the kitchen as quickly as possible, but Neville followed a bit more slowly.
It looked to Neville as though Molly had left enough food to feed half of Hogwarts. There was a wide assortment of sandwiches, meat pies, vegetable pies, breads, and puddings. Ginny had laid James in his carrier and was piling food onto her plate.
Grinning at the scene, Neville helped himself to some sandwiches. About halfway through the meal, James began to whimper. Ginny immediately dropped her fork and scooped him up.
"What's wrong, Jamie? You can't be hungry; I fed you a half hour ago. Do you need to be changed?" Ginny felt his diaper. "No, you're dry…what else could be wrong?"
She looked at Neville helplessly. He shrugged; he had no idea what to do. He just figured babies cried a lot for no particular reason.
Ginny slumped back into her chair, James still bawling in her arms. "I can't do this. I'm a horrible mother. My mum is just so good with him…and I'm a failure."
"You are not a failure. You're new at this, and your mum has seven kids," Neville insisted. "Here, let me take him, and you finish your dinner."
Raising an eyebrow doubtfully, Ginny passed James to Neville. The baby immediately quieted and looked up at Neville innocently with Harry's bright green eyes.
"Oh, I see how it is," Ginny said shortly, but she was smiling. "I was in labor with you for fifteen hours, I feed you, I change most of your nappies, and Daddy's your favorite. Traitor."
Chucklin, Neville looked across the table at Ginny. "You called me Daddy," he said softly.
Ginny shrugged. "That's what you are, right?"
"Yeah," Neville said as he stroked James's cheek. "I am."
Ginny was reveling in the freedom that came with living in her own house. Neville came home after his second day back at work to find her humming merrily in the kitchen as two different pots simmered on the stove. James was snuggled against her chest in the Muggle baby carrier contraption Hermione had given them.
"Someone's in a good mood," Neville said, hanging up his cloak.
Ginny turned to face him, wooden spoon in hand. "Oh, the baby was such an angel today, so I decided to do some experimenting in the kitchen and call it Potions homework. Here, try this."
She dipped the spoon in one of the pots and held it out for Neville. He took it somewhat warily – Ginny normally didn't have much patience for cooking and her skills were somewhat unrefined. The spoon appeared to contain some sort of white sauce, although it looked like there were little bits of something in it. Taking a bite, Neville was surprised to find that it was edible, if a bit tasteless.
"Potato soup?" he said, hoping against hope he had guessed correctly.
Ginny smiled and nodded, taking the spoon from him and tasting a bit herself. "Hmm…still needs more…something. When Mum makes it there's so much flavor, but this is just boring." She turned back to the stove, and at that moment James started to cry. Ginny set down the spoon and pulled him out of the carrier.
"He's wet," she quickly concluded.
"I'll take him, you finish dinner," Neville said. He was starved and hoped Ginny's culinary creations wouldn't take much longer.
James was gurgling at him, which Neville took to mean it was taking too long to get his nappy changed. It had taken Neville awhile to adjust to caring for a baby – Molly had helped him a lot the first two weeks when they were still at the Burrow. He had been scared, at first, knowing that he was partly responsible for this little human being. Slowly, though, he was getting used to things like changing diapers and drawing baths. His skills at Scourgify had even improved out of necessity.
Neville redid the snaps on James's onesie and buttoned up his one-piece sleeper, which was olive green and decorated with a broomstick. It had been a gift from Tonks – between her, Molly, his gran, Auntie Enid, Hermione, and Fleur, they hadn't needed to buy James hardly any clothes themselves. It was ridiculous, really, how crazy women went over babies. He did have to admit, though, that James had almost immediately enchanted him, as well.
"Okay, Jamie," Neville said, lifting James into his arms. "Let's go see what mess your mum's made of dinner."
A few days later, Neville was eating his breakfast of bran flakes when he spotted four owls heading towards the window. One he recognized as Hedwig, and the large brown owl belonged to his gran, and the third was the Weasleys' ancient Errol, but the fourth was unfamiliar.
Hedwig was carrying a package, but the other three owls just had letters. While he was fetching some water for them, Neville realized it would probably be a good idea for Ginny and him to get an owl of their own.
The package contained a letter for Ginny and yet another toy for James – this time a wooden rattle. Hagrid had been sending toys once every three or four days despite Ginny's attempts to tell him this was unnecessary. James was spoiled enough.
He scanned the contents of his gran's letter. She had updated him on some family gossip he didn't care about, as well as invited them to dinner that Thursday evening. Neville found himself looking forward to that – he hadn't seen his gran since James was born and he was bound to get a full, decent meal out of the evening.
The next letter was from Molly, asking when they were going to come visit. She was apparently trying to get all her children together for dinner on Sunday, maybe start a regular tradition. He wished her luck with that Percy fellow – according to Ron and Ginny he hadn't spoken to the family in over two years. Still, Neville didn't mind Bill and Fleur, and he was wiser to the twins' tricks now. Mouth watering at the thought of Molly's cooking, Neville turned to the last owl, a small dark one.
The fourth letter proved to be from Remus and Tonks, who were offering to babysit that weekend as Tonks had a couple days off work. Remus also had some information for Ginny about helping her study for N.E.W.T.s – he was tutoring several students now in hopes of eventually getting his job back at Hogwarts. The last part of the letter contained a dinner invitation, and Neville laughed.
"What's so funny?" Ginny said as she entered the kitchen, James resting against her shoulder.
"We have dinner invitations from my gran, your mum, and Remus and Tonks," Neville said. "There's also a letter for you from Hagrid."
"Have you been telling people I can't cook?" Ginny said, glowering.
"N-no, of course not!" He had joked about Ginny's cooking experiments a bit with Ron, who said Hermione was lousy in the kitchen, too, but he had definitely not told anyone else.
"Because I'd like to see you cook something," Ginny continued.
"I fully admit I'm rubbish at most household-related spells," Neville said, grinning.
"I don't have time for it like my mum does." Ginny set James in his baby carrier, which had been secured in one of the chairs. He was fussing a bit, and it took some effort on her part to strap him in. Once he was secure, he spit up a good quantity of milk on Ginny's blouse. Sighing, she aimed her wand at her shoulder. "Sourgify," she said in a bored tone. She then looked back up at Neville. "Exhibit A. For Exhibit B, feel free to peruse my giant pile of textbooks."
"I've never complained, Ginny, I know you have more important things to do. Besides, it's not like your cooking is inedible; no one here is going hungry. The dinner invites are just a coincidence, I think. We haven't seen Gran in awhile and Tonks apparently has a few days off work, and your mum is trying to start a weekly dinner tradition," Neville said.
Ginny finally smiled. "Fine, I believe you. Besides, my cooking is nowhere near as bad as Hermione's."
"You look dead on your feet, Longbottom," Marks said one Sunday afternoon in February. They had received a special shipment of a particularly rare species of ginger root that needed to be handled immediately, so several of the Research Assistants had been called in on the weekend.
"Sorry sir," Neville said with a yawn. "That baby was up most of the night. He has colic, we think."
Marks laughed heartily and shook his head, as though remembering days long past. "Hope you got your wife something special for Valentine's Day – sounds like she deserves it."
Neville kicked himself mentally. He'd wondered why his Forget-Me-Knot had been red for the past two days. Ginny wouldn't have remembered, would she?
He was sure she would have, as her memory was nowhere near as poor as his. Ginny was frustrated, he knew, between James and trying to keep up with her schoolwork. It was hard on her – most of her friends were still at Hogwarts and she was by herself all day with a baby.
Later that afternoon, he returned home to see James crying away in his playpen with Ginny nowhere in sight. Confused, he walked into the kitchen to find Ginny sitting with her head down on the table. She must have cast an Imperturbable Charm on the lounge, for James's screams could no longer be heard.
"Hard day?" he asked, only to be greeted with a death glare. He lifted the red roses he had purchased in a Muggle flower shop down the street into view. "Happy Valentine's Day, Ginny."
Her eyes lit up and she jumped from her chair, throwing her arms around Neville's neck. "You remembered!" she exclaimed, giving him a quick peck on the lips.
"Uh, yeah," he said sheepishly. "Now take the night off. I can handle this." Ginny pulled back a little and looked at him, doubt in her eyes. "I can. You deserve a break – go hang out with Hermione or something."
"Really?" She seemed reluctant, despite the fact that she had obviously had enough with James. Finally, she smiled. "All right. I could use a break, and I'm sure Ron has forgotten all about Valentine's Day so Hermione will need a sounding board. Are you sure you'll be all right?"
"Yes," Neville insisted.
"I love you, Neville," she said suddenly.
They both froze at this implication. Neville's cheeks tinged red as he cleared his throat. "Go on, get out of here," he managed finally, laughing slightly.
Looking relieved, Ginny grabbed her cloak and wand and Disapparated.
Sighing, Neville lifted the Imperturbable Charm and went to tend to James. He had a feeling he knew what Hermione and Ginny would discuss tonight.
"Hi, Jamie. What's the matter? Did Mummy leave you here all by yourself?" Neville asked in a slight baby voice as he lifted James from the playpen. James's face was red and tear streaked, but he seemed to have stopped crying.
"That's much better." He picked up a bright pink plush pig, which was currently James's favorite toy. Ginny had christened it "Owl" as a sort of joke – she thought the thing was adorable. Neville thought the toy was a bit ridiculous for a boy, although the expression on Ron's face when he had seen his nephew chewing on a plush pink pig had been amusing.
Suddenly, James screwed up his face in concentration, and an absolutely awful smell wafted up to Neville's nose. He grimaced and held James at arm's length as he carried him upstairs to be changed.
"It's going to be a long night," he said, shaking his head. James giggled.
A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my own abysmal cooking skills. I hope you enjoyed this one, and thanks for reading!